After Dark
by River of Oblivion
Summary: “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”


_**After Dark**_

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own them and never will. I certainly wouldn't have made some of the decisions TPTB have... 

**Spoilers:** Major spoilers for the back half of season 3, and there's some definite speculation about season 4. It could be AU, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.

**A/N:** This isn't a happy story, just in case you had any illusions. I worked long and hard on this one, and it was pretty draining, so please review!

* * *

_"If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever..."_

_ --"The Crow"  
_

* * *

He sighed as he ran his hand over the cool balcony railing, his ears catching the faint sound of the ocean's waves crashing against Atlantis' walls. Instead of providing him with the comfort they usually did, the millions of stars twinkling in the inky black sky chilled him to the bone. 

She had always loved the night. He couldn't count the number of times he'd found her out on this very balcony, eyes fixed on some distant point on the horizon, an almost serene look on her face. She looked more alive somehow, freer when the planet's sun dipped below the horizon. He had always thought she resembled Prometheus having slipped his chains.

She'd told him once that she had never been afraid of the dark, even as a little girl; that the mysterious nocturnal hours had always intrigued her, that the beauty of the night had always captivated her. She'd confessed that she felt more secure in the company of invisible shadows and stars than in the sun's harsh light. At first her admission had surprised him; he'd always seen her as the embodiment of light and sunshine.

Then, when he caught her out on the balcony after hours for the first time, he wondered how he could have misjudged her so badly.

It had been near the end of their fourth month occupying the city and the rain hadn't stopped all day. Everyone in Atlantis had been feeling the effects; Rodney and Zelenka bickered more than usual and even Teyla had lost a bit of her staidness, snapping at McKay when the scientist's incessant chatter got on her nerves. His day had been filled with keeping the agitation in the city to a low boil, and by evening the pressure of being stuck inside with hundreds of tense people had finally caught up with him. Feeling unusually stifled, he had headed out to 'their' balcony to get some fresh air. Though the air was still a bit damp, the rain had finally stopped and everything smelled clean and fresh. Clouds covered the stars and a fierce gale was making the black waves below churn violently. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the darkness, but when they did he saw something that took his breath away. There, leaning farther out on the railing than he was comfortable with was the expedition's leader. The gusts of wind blew her dark curls every which way; and there was something about the way she was standing, so small and defiant against the forces of nature, that lent a kind of wildness to her. She seemed to be unmoved and unaffected by the night's unrest; instead, she looked completely at home. It was an image that was burned in his memory, a picture he would never forget.

And now, memories were all he had left of her; she was gone, another name on a long list of casualties that had started with Colonel Sumner. Ironically, both deaths were his fault. Sumner had died directly by his hand; and even if that was an act of mercy, the Wraith Queen who had attacked the Marine had awoken because of him anyway. As for the latest victim, she had been a casualty in a war that never should have started. She had been against the attack on the Asurans to begin with but he hadn't supported her; instead he'd disregarded her concerns and helped Colonel Ellis launch an attack on the replicators' home planet. That was something he'd regret for the rest of his life. He should have listened to her; if he had, she might still be alive.

The whole expedition was awash in shock and grief; he'd seen people suddenly break down in tears in the middle of the hallway, not caring that everyone could see. Even Atlantis herself seemed to be mourning the loss of her leader; the lights all over the city had dimmed for no apparent reason, and there were one or two times he could have sworn he 'heard' Atlantis keening. He couldn't take it; everywhere he looked he saw the consequences of her loss, and it was almost more than he could handle. How was he supposed to remain properly stoic and detached if he was surrounded by other people who were allowed to grieve as they pleased? How was he supposed to go on when all he wanted to do was give in and cry until the tears stopped coming? When she had died she'd taken a fundamental part of him with her; she was his _raison d'etre_, but he had realized it too late. That was something else he'd regret for the rest of his life.

The cool night breeze suddenly stopped blowing and the ocean went flat and still. It was a kind of calm silence he wasn't used to. If possible, the stars shone brighter than ever and he thought his heart might just break…again. She should be standing out there next to him, commenting on how rare and enjoyable this kind of stillness was. But he knew that while she loved the serenity of such quiet moments, a part of her was as untamable and wild as the night wind. She might have mentioned how beautiful the stars were, and if he had been brave enough he would have told her she outshined them all.

But she wasn't there, and no amount of wishing was going to bring her back.

The wind picked up again, lightly ruffling his hair, and he had to smile, albeit a bit sadly. He felt closest to her out here in the dark; if he had believed in such a thing he would've thought that she was up there in the glittering stars, and that when they shone the brightest she was smiling down on him. At least, that's what he would have thought…had he believed in that sort of thing. Still, he'd always had a bit of sixth sense where she was concerned; he had always known when she was near. And the strange thing was when he was out on their balcony after sunset, sometimes when a breeze gently stroked his face he'd feel that exact sensation.

There were plans being made to erect a memorial in her honor, a cenotaph that would immortalize someone who he couldn't imagine anyone ever forgetting. He was going to push for it to be placed out on this balcony, not that he imagined there being much resistance to his idea. Everyone had pretty much appointed him leader, despite the fact that the SGC was sending Colonel Carter out in a couple of days to take command of the expedition. The only person who was at all happy about that development was McKay, and his joy was tempered severely by the reason Carter was coming over in the first place.

People had automatically assumed that he would want take care of anything involving their fallen leader, and they were partially right. He had her body cremated and her ashes sprinkled over the ocean, just like those of her ancient, alternate self. It was what she would have wanted. They had a nice little ceremony where he'd given a eulogy, knowing full well there was nothing he could say that would do a woman like her justice. He'd described her as being "honorable," "selfless," and "brave," pretty words that sounded insignificant and hollow in his ears. She was no longer any of those things; and as he was speaking there was only one adjective that pushed its way to the forefront of his mind, only one word that echoed painfully in his heart with every beat. He wanted to yell at those assembled that none of it mattered, that where once there had been a beautiful vibrant person there was now only dust, that she was gone and never coming back. Instead he'd soldiered on, saying all the things he was supposed to and few of the things he wanted to.

It had been three days since her funeral and he had yet to properly grieve for her, probably because mourning her would mean letting her go. Tomorrow he was going to have to go through her things and pack up her room. He still wasn't sure how he was going to accomplish that task; he suspected it would be the hardest thing he'd had to do to date. Worse than that, he was going to personally take her belongings back to Earth and deliver them to her mother; but that was tomorrow.

Suddenly he felt that quintessence that was inexplicably hers register on his senses and before he could stop himself he half-turned, expecting to see her standing behind him. The only sight that greeted him was the glow cast by the city's interior lights…the same sight that greeted him every time he thought he felt her. He wondered if Atlantis was playing tricks on him; either that or he was losing his mind. Of course, it could have been a combination of the two. Whatever was causing him to feel her illusory presence, it was starting to drive him crazy. It was like dangling hope and happiness in front of him and then snatching it away.

He supposed there was always the possibility that she had ascended. He certainly couldn't think of anyone more worthy; but from what he had personally experienced and what he'd read on the subject, he understood that the ascending person turned into a bright, glowing orb of energy. He vividly remembered what she'd looked like when she'd breathed her last, and she hadn't transformed into anything. There was no luminescent ball, no tendrils of light; she'd simply…stopped. He knew that for a fact because he'd been sitting next to her when it happened. He'd seen a lot of terrible things in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for the horrible experience of watching her die. It had been just after sundown, like she had held on until her favorite time of day before finally succumbing to her injuries. He had gently held her icy hand and watched the EKG grow more and more erratic, trying desperately not to sob in front of the other members of his team. The most profound and devastating event in his life had ended with the high pitched whine of the heart monitor as she flat-lined and the realization that Atlantis had lost her guiding star.

He gripped the railing tightly, the chill he'd felt earlier returning and making him shiver. Her name fell from his lips, an anguished whisper that finally broke the barrier holding back his emotions. He sank to his knees and let the tears roll down his face. At least no one could see him out on the balcony. He was alone with the stars, the ocean, and that unnerving presence that felt so much like her. It took him close to half an hour to recover enough to seal off the breach in his heart's crumbled dam, and even then he knew that it was only a matter of time before it burst once more. He stood and straightened his back, working to erase the telltale signs that he'd broken down. By the time McKay radioed inquiring where he was, he was able to speak without so much as a quaver in his voice. When the scientist mentioned that there had been a fistfight between a biologist and a marine, he took a deep breath, wondering if he could be half as efficient a mediator as she had been. He let Rodney know he was on his way and then took one last glance at the dark sky above him. As he turned to go what felt like the softest of touches grazed his hand and brushed his forehead, but when he looked there was no one there. The very corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly; maybe, just maybe, some part of her really was out there amongst the stars.

* * *

_"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love."_

_--Washington Irving_


End file.
